


The Disappearing Girl, Part 1

by smoothbrownrectangles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothbrownrectangles/pseuds/smoothbrownrectangles
Summary: While helping sort through the personal belongings of Shiro's deceased relative, Hunk stumbles on a Shirogane family mystery.





	The Disappearing Girl, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Minor canon deviation; takes place on Earth during the s1-s2 paladin line-up era which is the best era, fight me.

“Akani, are you in there? Please answer me.”

“Go away…”

Akira tried the doorknob but it was locked. “Unlock the door, please.”

“I said go away!”

“Kani, dad will be home soon.”

“I don’t care.”

“He’s gonna ask what you’re doing in there.”

A crash came from beyond the bathroom door, like something falling to the floor. It made Akira jump. “What was that?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

Horrified, Akira went to her desk and searched it thoroughly, but they were gone. She returned to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Kani, do you have my scissors?”

“I said go away, Kiki!”

Akira struggled with the doorknob. “Akani, please, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it! I’m begging you!”

“Just leave me alone…”

Akira closed her eyes to steel herself, holding back the tears and shoving away the frightening thoughts. “I can’t do that,” she said, voice trembling. “You’re my sister. I will never leave you.”

#

“Come oooon…”

“No, Lance.”

“Pleeeaase?”

“I said no.”

“But I can’t do it, I’m just a leg! Keith, Pidge?”

“I think it’d be pretty funny,” said Pidge. Keith groaned.

“For the last time, Lance,” said Shiro in his calm yet annoyed leader-voice, “we are not making Voltron dab.”

Lance pouted in his little blue screen on Shiro’s display. “Have I mentioned lately how much of a buzzkill you are, Shiro?”

“Yes.”

“Well it bears repeating.”

“Knock it off, Lance,” said Keith. “Shiro said no, so the answer is no.”

“Maybe we could make Voltron moonwalk, Lance,” suggested Hunk.

Lance’s face lit up with awe like he’d just found the holy grail. “Hunk, you’re a genius!”

“I think that’s enough training for one day,” said Shiro. “Let’s disband and get back to the Garrison.”

“Party pooper,” muttered Lance.

The Lions’ hangars were still under construction, so the Galaxy Garrison emptied out an old shuttle hangar to serve as temporary quarters. Allura was there to meet them when they landed, a tablet in her hands.

“Does it bother you that civilians keep recording your training sessions?” she asked, showing a shaky amateur video of Voltron flying around the desert.

Shiro shrugged. “It’s not like the Galra are going to check YouTube for our secret tactics and battle strategies. Let them have their fun.”

Allura turned off the tablet and put it aside. “By the way, I’m still unclear as to the significance of this 'dab' that Lance seems to like so much.”

“As am I,” Shiro said.

“Paladins. How did training go?” Commander Iverson entered the hangar, and Shiro saluted habitually.

“Nothing to report, Commander,” answered Shiro. “Just another run-of-the-mill training exercise. Nothing fancy.”

“Yeah, but we could have been moonwalking,” griped Lance. Keith elbowed him in the ribs.

Iverson gave Lance a brief bemused look, before responding with, “Not even gonna ask.” He turned away from Lance and addressed Shiro once more. “Shiro, I’d like to speak with you regarding a private matter, if you have a moment.”

“Is everything alright?”

Iverson glanced at the other Paladins over Shiro’s shoulder. “Let’s discuss this in my office.”

Shiro followed Iverson as they exited the hangar. The Paladins exchanged worried looks. Hunk was the first to break the silence. “What was that about?”

“Nothing good,” answered Keith.

The Paladins and Allura all gathered outside Iverson’s office, waiting impatiently. Lance tried listening through the door more than once, but received multiple subsequent scoldings, usually from Keith.

“Lance, stop eavesdropping.”

“I think they’re talking about…” Lance compressed his face in concentration. “Peanut butter. Or possibly koi fish.” Keith grabbed Lance by the scruff of his armor and dragged him from the door just as Coran happened by.

“Oh! Are we spying on someone?” Coran pressed his ear against Iverson’s door as Lance broke from Keith’s grasp and joined him.

Finally, the door opened, and out came Shiro, looking grim.

“Shiro? What happened?” asked Allura.

Shiro could barely lift his eyes. “My great-uncle died. Admiral Wei.”

“Oh, Shiro. I’m so sorry,” said Allura.

“Why does that name sound so familiar?” asked Lance.

“Admiral Wei was one of the founders of the Galaxy Garrison,” said Pidge. “He was a physicist, wasn’t he? My dad knew him.”

“That was before I was born,” said Shiro. “He retired a long time ago.”

“Were the two of you close?” asked Hunk.

“Not really. I haven’t seen him in years. But I’m listed as next of kin at his old nursing home. He passed away this morning; I just need to go deal with his affects and stuff. It’s no big deal.”

“Doesn’t sound like no big deal,” said Hunk. “What if we all come with? That way you’ll have help and you won’t be all alone.”

Shiro cocked an eyebrow. “Really? You want to help me sort through the belongings of some old guy you’ve never met?”

“Well when you put it that way, it sounds really boring and kinda weird, but yes that is what I’m suggesting,” answered Hunk. The rest of the team murmured in everything from enthusiastic agreement to bland indifference.

#

“Kani, please…” Akira sunk to her knees, fist pounding weakly on the door. Tears streaked her cheeks. “Please let me in.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Kiki…” Akani sobbed.

“I know. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you. I’m always here.” She smiled sadly. “Best friends assigned at birth, right?”

Silence behind the door, and for a brief moment Akira dreaded the worst. “Are you gonna tell Mom and Dad?” Akani asked.

“Never. Not without your permission.”

Another pause, then the tiniest “Okay.” The lock clicked. Akira stood as the door opened.

#

“Boy, your great uncle sure had a lot of…stuff,” said Hunk.

The room was packed. Books filled no less than six shelves; paintings of everything from landscapes to ancient battles to still life lined the walls; medals, trophies, and placards filled in the empty spaces on shelves, walls, and any horizontal surface with a few square inches to spare. The team had come prepared with boxes, but now it was unclear whether they would have enough. Coran suggested this task might require multiple days and an army.

“Yeah, Uncle Hanzo was a bit of a pack rat…” said Shiro sheepishly.

“Where… do we… begin?” asked a clearly overwhelmed Keith, clutching an empty cardboard box.

“Just start putting things in boxes, and label them accordingly,” said Shiro. He took his box to a shelf and began filling it with books. Nobody else moved.

“Sooo…” said Pidge. “Who needs caffeine?” Everyone raised their hands.

The team spent the next several hours packing things away, making coffee runs, and finding more empty boxes to fill. It was long, tiring work.

“Shiro, you are so lucky we like you!” said Lance, filling yet another box full of books and labeling it in scribbled marker.

“You guys don’t have to stay, you know. I can take it from here.”

“Yeah, but then what would I complain about?” said Lance.

“Yeah, Shiro, what on earth would Lance complain about?” muttered Keith. Shiro couldn’t help but smile.

A young woman in purple scrubs appeared at the doorway, a clipboard in her hands. “Pardon me? Which one of you is Hanzo Wei’s next of kin?”

“That’d be me,” said Shiro, standing and brushing the dust from his legs. “Takashi Shirogane; I’m his great nephew.”

“Our deepest sympathies for your loss,” said the young woman with surprising sincerity. “I’d hate to trouble you, but we need some paperwork taken care of.”

“Of course,” said Shiro. The young woman motioned for him to follow. “You guys can take a break,” he said to the team.

“Oh, don’t worry,” panted Pidge after shoving a heavy box aside and plopping on the minimal floor space. “We’re way ahead o’ ya!” Shiro left with a grin, and his footsteps faded down the hall.

“I could sure go for some more coffee right now,” mumbled Allura, slumped in a chair.

“Same,” said Lance. “Whose turn is it to make a caffeine run?”

“Not it!” said Pidge, raising her hand in the air.

“Not it!” declared Keith, Allura, and Lance simultaneously.

“I am also not it!” chimed Coran.

“Looks like it’s up to Hunk,” said Keith.

But Hunk was not paying attention. He was still busy sorting through the contents of Admiral Wei’s desk. Most of it was boring old documents in small, illegible handwriting. Sandwiched between layers of papers was an old photograph. Not too old, but well preserved, despite the worn corners. It was a man, woman, and two small girls, all in formal wear and posing in front of the exterior of some building. The woman had a champagne glass in one hand. On the back of the photo was a handwritten caption: General and Doctor Shirogane with daughters Akira and Akani, age 10.

“Hello? Hunk? Your turn for a coffee run,” repeated Keith.

“What? Oh, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” His focus was drawn back to the photo, and the words on the back. “Hey, Keith? Does Shiro have any sisters?”

“I don’t think so. Pretty sure he’s an only child. Why?”

Hunk handed him the photograph, and the others gathered around to take it in and read the writing on the back. “Same last name. Maybe they’re cousins or something,” he added.

“I never met his family,” said Keith, “but I know his mom was a doctor and his dad was a general, or some kind of high-ranking military official. So, yeah, this might be his folks.”

“You’ve never met his family?” asked Hunk. “But you’ve known him longer than anyone.”

Keith shrugged and handed back the photo. “Shiro doesn’t really talk about himself.”

Eventually, Lance gave in and offered to replenish their fuel, as he put it. He and Coran returned soon after with drinks and sandwiches for everyone. Shiro still hadn’t returned.

“How long does it typically take to do paperwork on Earth?” asked Coran.

“After a family member dies in a government funded care facility? Way too long,” answered Pidge.

After finishing his meal, Hunk felt energized enough to continue battling the cluttered desk. He set aside the photograph for now, thinking Shiro might want to hang on to it. Eventually, the rest of the team went back to work, setting aside Shiro’s sandwich for later, though it was already cold and growing soggy. Hunk opened a lower drawer on the desk, and found an old shoebox, buried beneath more documents. Inside the shoebox was dozens of photographs, almost all of which were those same two girls: Akira and Akani.

Hunk flipped through the photos. Most of them were the two girls playing together or celebrating some holiday. Kiki and Kani, age 5; Kiki and Kani, Morrow Bay, age 9; Kiki and Kani, 3rd birthday. Then Hunk happened upon something odd: eventually, the photos changed. Akira appeared again and again, but Akani disappeared. The photos had been cut, deliberately erasing someone from the picture. Some photos were torn, leaving only an image of a disembodied hand or shoulder next to the remaining sister. The captions on the back of the photos were altered as well. The accompanying name was either cut or blacked out with ink. Older photos showed both girls at a young age, but recent pictures favored Akira and erased Akani.

“Hey, guys,” said Hunk. “Take a look at this.”

He took out the photos and laid them on the floor so everyone had a clear view, and the pattern was noticeable. Something about this was concerning for him, and he was a bit relieved to see his friends also appeared troubled by the altered photographs.

“So… he likes one girl but not the other?” suggested Lance weakly.

Allura picked up an old photo of the sisters in a kiddie pool. “Then why change only some of them? Why leave these older ones intact?”

“There’s a pattern to them,” said Pidge. She arranged the intact photos into separate piles, then worked on the altered ones. “The pictures don’t get changed until they reach age 13. See?”

She was right. There was always an age on the back of each picture. Once the teen years were reached, the photos started changing. “And they stop altogether at 16…” noticed Hunk.

“Maybe Akani died?” wondered Pidge.

“That’s a pretty lousy way to remember her,” said Hunk.

“This is stupid,” said Keith. “I’ve got an idea: why don’t we just ask Shiro?”

Everyone paused, glancing at each other. “It’s not a bad idea,” said Lance.

“But what if it’s something Shiro doesn’t want to talk about?” asked Hunk.

“We know literally nothing about this girl,” said Keith. “For all we know, she’s not even related to him and the last name is just a coincidence. I say we just ask point blank and put this to rest. We’re obsessing over some girl we don’t even know.”

He had a point, but Hunk didn’t like it. Everyone murmured in agreement, so he relented. There was something strange going on, he could feel it. Hunk grabbed the photos and began putting them back in their shoebox.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway and Shiro appeared at the door, looking exhausted. “I have never seen so much paperwork in my life.”

Hunk opened his mouth just to greet him, when Keith interrupted him. “What happened to Akani?”

Shiro was taken aback, startled, even. “What… How do you know that name?”

Keith grabbed a handful of photos from the shoebox before Hunk could stop him, and handed them to Shiro. “Akira’s in all of them, but Akani disappears. What happened to her?”

Hunk had never seen that look on Shiro’s face before. It was a tortured mix of sadness, anger, and denial. “Did these belong to my uncle?” he asked.

“I found them in his desk,” said Hunk, trying to be gentler than Keith was being right now.

“It’s bugging us,” continued Keith. “We’ve been trying to figure out where Akani went. Do you know?”

Shiro handed the photos back, hand shaking. “She died,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“Shiro…” said Hunk, guilt hitting him hard in the stomach. “I’m so sorry. Was she your sister or—”

“We need to finish packing,” said Shiro.

The rest of the day was spent in uncomfortable silence. By sundown, the room was only about two thirds packed, so Shiro suggested they pick it up later. The ride home was uncomfortable as well, since it was Shiro’s vehicle and he was clearly still upset. They’d left the boxes in Admiral Wei’s room to retrieve later for storage, but Hunk managed to sneak out the shoebox of photos.

“Hunk, just let it go,” begged Pidge later that evening when she caught him shoving the box under his bed. “The girl died, that’s it. Now Shiro’s upset and we all feel bad. Just put it to rest, man. Like Keith said.”

Hunk sifted through the photos again. “I can’t, Pidge. Something isn’t right here, I can feel it.”

Pidge sat heavily on the bed next to him. “Maybe she got abducted by aliens. Heh, maybe it runs in the family!” Her sarcastic smile quickly faded. “Oh, I made myself feel bad…”

Hunk turned the box over and dumped out all the photos on the bed. “There’s gotta be something in here…”

“Uh, Hunk?” said Pidge, inspecting the empty box. “There’s a newspaper article in here.”

“What? Let me see!” Hunk snatched the box and took out a folded newspaper clipping stuck to the bottom of the box. He unfolded it and a shredded piece of paper fell out, bearing a bit of handwriting, like part of a letter ripped to shreds. Only part of it was legible: I’m sorry to hear about Akira after what happened to Akani.

“Akira?” said Pidge, after reading the note. “I thought Akani was the missing one.”

Hunk went back to the newspaper clipping and read it silently. His face drained of color. “Pidge. This is an obituary.”

“For Akani?”

“No; Akira.”

Pidge squeezed next to him and they read it together. “Car accident. She was only sixteen… that’s why the photos stopped.” She pointed to a black section covering a piece of text. “That part’s been edited.”

Hunk read the visible part of the line: “'Akira is survived by her mother, Izumi…’ And the rest is blacked out.” He grunted in frustration. “We’re so close, I can feel it!”

“I’d bet we could figure it out,” said Pidge, snatching the paper from Hunk’s hands.

Pidge’s energy only lasted so long before she fell asleep on the floor while Hunk read the obituary over and over again, long into the night. His eyelids grew heavy and he almost gave up. On one last whim, he held up the blackened lines close to his lamp and squinted. The blocked ink was different from the print ink, and slowly, with a lot of focus and the right lighting, words began to appear…

“No way…” breathed Hunk.

#

Akira flung her arms around her sister. “I was so scared…” she sobbed.

Akani returned the embrace hesitantly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

Akira grabbed Akani’s arms, extending and expecting them. She let out a sigh of relief. “You didn’t do it?”

“I guess not. But I thought about it.” Behind her, the scissors lay untouched on the counter by the sink. “Thanks, Kiki,” Akani said, trying to hold back tears. She could barely get through the words before the tears flowed freely down her face and she broke down sobbing. Akira held her close. This time, Akani returned the embrace with vigor. “Thank you for always having my back.”

“That’s what twins are for, right?”

The sisters held each other for a long time before Akani stopped crying and pulled away. “Hey, since you’re here. Do you think you can help me with something? We’re going to need those scissors.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

#

Shiro was in the training room, right where Hunk suspected he’d be. Shiro often felt a need to blow off steam when he was stressed; and he never slept much.

“Hunk?” Shiro said after throwing a series of powerful jabs into a punching bag. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I just…” Hunk had no idea what to say next. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. We got kind of carried away, and we didn’t really think that you might get upset, and just… I’m the one who found the photos and started asking questions, so it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

Ever the compassionate leader, Shiro gave him a sincere smile. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hunk. It’s not your fault; you didn’t know.” He turned and made his way to the black gym bag in the corner. Hunk’s heart pounded; he couldn’t stand the anticipation. He had to say it.

“Kani’s not dead, is she?”

Shiro stopped in his tracks. Hunk’s hands trembled, but there was no way he could back down now. He took the news clipping from his pocket and handed it to Shiro. “I found Kiki’s obituary.” Shiro looked at it with such sadness in his eyes; Hunk wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. “Part of the text is blacked out, so I did some examinations, but I had to be sure,” he took out his tablet and pulled up a digital news article, “so I looked up the original text.” He read it aloud: “Akira is survived by her mother Izumi and her twin brother Takashi.” The look in Shiro’s eyes was heartbreaking. He could barely look at Hunk. “Akani’s not dead; she’s right here, isn’t she?”

Shiro trembled as well, but neither was ready to back away from this conversation. “That’s not my name; not anymore.”

#

Sssnip!

Lock after lock of inky black hair fell to the floor in delicate little whirls. Akira may not have been the most skilled hairdresser, but that didn’t seem to matter now. Her sister looked so much happier. Or, more accurately: her brother looked so much happier.

“How does it look?” asked Akani.

Akira set down the scissors and examined him on every side, inspecting with a super-serious demeanor. “Handsome. Maybe a little too handsome. Can’t have you looking better than me.” Akani giggled.

“Have you thought about what you want to be called?” asked Akira.

Akani looked at his brand-new haircut; short and jet black with just a small tuft sticking out over his forehead. He ran his hands over the fuzzy, new-carpet feeling. He felt so… free. So happy; so much more like himself than he ever did before. Tears of pure joy crowded at the corners of his eyes. A haircut may not have solved all his problems, but it was certainly a good place to start. And he would rather be nowhere else in the world than here beside his twin sister. More than anything, he was overjoyed to have her support.

“I was thinking… Takashi.”


End file.
